Page 45 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“What?”

“I feel like such an asshole…” June’s voice cracked. “I should’ve had my wedding closer to home. Made it easier for him, you know?” She sniffed. “It feels so selfish that I didn’t.”

“Dad would be pissed if he’d heard you say that,” I admonished. “He wants you to have your dream wedding.”

“I know.”

“And if that dream wedding is…a camping trip in the mountains? Then that’s what you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I should cancel…” June was still spiraling, and I hated it. “Or postpone? We’d lose the deposit…but…” If she did that, months—hell, a fucking year of work I’d put into this damn thing would go right down the drain. And yet, that wasn’t why I spoke up. It wasn’t me I was worried about

“Don’t cancel,” I replied immediately.

“But he?—”

“The doctor said Dad’s fine to escort you down the aisle. Everything else has been taken care of. Allyou’resupposed to do is enjoy the shit I’ve spent the last—infinity—planning for you. All any of us want is for you to be happy. Dad, me, and your fiancé included.” I wasn’t sure if I was getting through to her. Her expression was sad. “Besides. You’re like…the least selfish person I’ve ever met. The fact you’d evenconsiderpostponing your wedding proves that.”

June sniffed, a wobbly smile twisting her lips. “You’re only saying that because it would mean a lot of work to reschedule. Fuck. Maybe I’d need to elope? I don’t want to put you through that agai?—”

“Fuck you.” I rolled my eyes. And then, I put on my “sincerity hat” with a grimace. “Look. You deserve to have this day be exactly as you envisioned—whenyou envisioned it. You’ve both waited long enough, and it took for-fucking-ever for the cabins you wanted to rent to be available. If we push it back, it could be a year or more before everything aligns the way you deserve.” I’d already had enough problems with the cabin situation to foreseethatbeing a nightmare and a half.

June had been looking forward to this damn thing for what felt like centuries.

She was so excited. So fucking excited.

She’d had a binder when we were kids, full of pictures she’d hacked out of magazines and slapped inside—pages and pages of inspiration. June’s dream wedding had simplified somewhat since then. There were no unicorns, for one thing. And the festivities she was most excited for involved basic camping activities—like the “Wedding-Lympics” and the day at the lake that she’d rented wave runners for.

But still.

My tone softened, “Don’t you think you’ve waited long enough?”

“You’re sure I’m not…” June trailed off, but I filled in the gaps.

“You’re not being selfish,” I repeated. “No one thinks that.”

“Okay.” She was still quiet. And though I could tell she felt somewhat better, I knew there was only one thing I could do right now that would legitimately cheer her up. June wasn’t selfish. But she was, in some ways, a sadist. I winced, already knowing what I was about to do was going to be painful.

“You were right,” I admitted. Her silence was unenthusiastic, despite those words being something I rarely said. “About George.”

“Yeah?” June perked up, twisting out of my grip to gape at me. “For real?No bullshit?”

“For real, no bullshit.” I shrugged, trying to force away how uncomfortable this amount of honesty made me feel.

“And?”

This was a direct mirror to the conversation we’d had earlier, but I couldn’t even be mad. My sincerity hat was still on. Now was good-brother time. Distract-my-sister time. Even if it meant cracking my heart open and revealing the black hole inside it.

“And I really do like him. Not just because he’s fun to poke. But because he intrigues me. On a level that is not purely physical.” George’s eyes intrigued me most of all. His earlier distress transfixed in the back of my mind.

“This is a first for you.” June looked pleased with herself. “You’re a chronic fucker.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You know.” She made a crude gesture with her hands. “Wham bam, thank you ma’am. You get someone to occupy your bed, then forget they exist the second your dick’s not wet. You don’t do feelings. Not since…you know.”

“Gross.” I grimaced, but she was…right. Even if I didn’t like to be reminded of why exactly I’d decided relationships weren’t for me. It had been a decade since the last time I’d had more than a one-night stand. “I already fucked it up, though.” Just saying those words out loud made me sick to my stomach. “He said he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

June made a sympathetic sound. “Did you apologize?”

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